


Better Love

by Infamous_society



Series: Wasteland, Baby [4]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blue Mountains | Ered Luin, Dragon Sickness, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Inspired by a Hozier Song, M/M, Song: Better Love (Hozier), human reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:54:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28653825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infamous_society/pseuds/Infamous_society
Summary: Thorin’s love can never truly fadeA journey through Middle Earth alongside its characters accompanied by Hozier songs.
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Original Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield/Original Male Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield/Reader
Series: Wasteland, Baby [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090121
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Better Love

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request!  
> Please feel free to request a character or a song @riderofrohirrim on Tumblr!
> 
> Better Love by Hozier

Thorin grinned at you across the cold Mirkwood dungeons. Of course something on this quest had to go wrong, you had sensed it from when Thorin had first told you he was finally acting on his wishes.   
  
You couldn’t fault him - it was his birth right after all, however this journey was dangerous enough and now you were locked away as precious time slipped by. Exactly what you had grown to expect from the man you loved.

You had heard him shout at Thranduil, power and confidence taking over his voice. Thorin was a true king and leader, your admiration for him blossomed and flowered in brighter colours than ever before - still it paled in comparison to his love and his compassion.

When you had first met him in the foothills of the Blue Mountains, he had been crowned many moons ago, many seasons before you were born, but still his hair was not yet braided. You knew more than most in the ways of the dwarves - you understand the significance and you would be lying if your heart did not leap. Thorin would be lying if he said that he was not entranced by you the moment he saw you. You stood there wild and ethereal, snow melting in your hair like pearls.

He had walked you through the citadels, names from the First Age carved into small pillars in the depths of the halls, a humble reminder of love from years gone by. A human was not made to live in darkness, yet the lightness of Thorin’s heart when he was with you seemed to guide you through the days in shadow - a beacon of hope and prosperity and perhaps of love. Still, you would talk with him as you drank in the wealth of the ores, the skilled labour of the dwarves and you would watch how his blue eyes shimmered like diamonds as he spoke.  
  
Eventually, you persuaded him to sit with you at the entrance to the mountain. Winter was cold but Thorin had lent you some of his furs, hiding your small shivers. The forest stretched out over the mountains, snow settled comfortably, the moon slowly rising, illuminating Thorin’s face in a bright glow - his features radiant and joyful, perfection.  
  
“Perhaps I understand the beauty of it now,” he spoke so softly you almost didn’t hear.

“Nature is very beautiful,” you agreed. “You can feel its indifference and its knowledge. These trees were here when those lovers from the First Age carved their names, they were here when you were crowned and now they bear witness to me and you watching them.”

He chuckled slightly, “Forgive me, but do you desire to leave my halls?”

“I wouldn’t be here by your side if I desired the hills of home more than I desire what these halls have to offer me.”

Steadily he locked his gaze with yours, a slight blush appeared on your cheeks as he spoke, “And I offer my love to you, whether we are in the darkest mountain or in the moonlight meadows.”  
  
Under the silver rays of the moon your lips touched his slowly. The starlight gleamed as you huddled together under his furs, the crisp night air cool against your skin.  
  
  


A starled laugh brought you back to the present, Thorin still smiling at you, a cool annoyance hidden in his eyes. You looked at him, slightly defeated yet defiant, his hair now braided intricately.

“These elves are celebrating the stars, the stars that do not see us but know we are here, our love is within those stars, those stars know we shall reach Erebor.”

He moved his mouth to respond, a silent cry of triumph interrupting him. _Bilbo_. You were free once again. Elated you grabbed Thorin’s hand, running through the palace of the Elven King.

The dragon fire had come and destroyed Laketown, still your love for Thorin burned true - perhaps it had grown more destructive. The darkness you had anticipated for all these years had come too. Crashing down, the greed in Thorin’s soul had reared its head despite himself. Still, you loved him as profoundly as before. Gold sickness.

His stubbornness had grown, his intelligent, caring side shrinking daily - deep inside you knew he still loved you as much as he cared for the other members of the company. It pained you that this would be the Thorin Oakenshield remembered across Middle Earth for it was not the Thorin you knew.

Gold flowed everywhere, the stone was cold, reminding you how you were locked up inside the mountain - defending the kingdom you had just reclaimed. _Your kingdom_. The childish carving you had brutally rushed was hidden behind a pillar, your name forever intertwined with Thorin’s, yet a seed of doubt that he seemed not to care anymore was growing inside your mind.

Gazing at the looming dwarven statues, you buried your head in your hands. Wishing you were back in the halls of the Blue Mountains, staring across the forest with Thorin, wrapped in his furs once more.

A hand came to rest on your shoulder, the other one running gently through your hair. Thorin. Smiling, you turned to him. Finery was draped over his body, yet his face looked troubled.

“My love, I know you would rather be in the open air underneath the moonlight, than locked away under this mountain.”

You nodded your head, “I would, but it does not matter for I am here with you.”

Love seemed to flood his features, as if your words were strong enough to finally defeat the confines of his mind. He looked weary still, but he smiled as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Would you braid my hair for me once again?” His eyes were pleading, irresistible, as if the moonlight you missed was shining through them.

“Of course my love, my king.” Deftly, you began plaiting, the intimacy hanging in the air, as thick as a smoke from a funeral pyre.

You believed for a second you were under the stars again.

He hummed contently, allowing a deadly silence to overcome the halls.

You frowned - it was too silent, too peaceful.

“Orcs!”


End file.
